Elysian Lake
by Bright Silver Lady of Midnight
Summary: Written for PowerofWords12's contest. It has been about two hundred years since Luke died, but only a few days since Thalia's death. Luke and Thalia contemplate the things that have happened to them when Luke seeks out Thalia for a second chance.


**This is for the next round of PowerofWords12's contest. I chose to do the second prompt, the idea of which was to describe two characters meeting up.**

It had been about a century and a half since Thalia Grace had seen Luke Castellan at all. The last time she saw him _alive_, his irises had been golden and his voice was the sound of nails on a chalkboard. The last time he was _himself_ was about a decade before. His hair hung in his eyes and his laugh was contagious. They'd lay anywhere they could for the night, staring at the stars and cursing their fathers.

She never thought he meant what he said to that extent. She never thought he'd been that bitter. Thalia had no idea what had sent him over the edge, and she probably never would. Whatever it was, his insanity was enough for Kronos to slip into his mind and speak to him; to make his insanity intensify and become anger. Thalia hadn't thought of Luke in about a century and a quarter. It shamed her that it took twenty-five years to push him out of her mind completely, but that was that. Nothing anybody could do about it now. Especially since she was dead as a doornail.

Dying had really been a stupid move on her part. She didn't know how the hell she wasn't fast enough to move out of the way of the Crommyon sow after over a hundred years of practice, but for whatever reason, she wasn't. That was that. Dead is dead. She told herself that over and over again, but she couldn't help but wonder if her Hunters had killed the stupid cow. Obviously, she told herself, or she'd be seeing her friends down here.

* * *

Luke Castellan wasn't able to be reborn, but he was lucky enough to spend the rest of eternity on Elysian fields. Sometimes he wondered about that "luck," since there were a ton of Half-Bloods whose death he had caused were here with him. They gave him nasty looks and avoided him. He couldn't talk to any of his old friends; not even level-headed Beckendorf would listen to him.

So, there he was; alone and uncomfortable in paradise. He wondered if Hades put him here because he knew it would make him miserable, but then he shook his head at his own narcissism. Why would Hades care about his state of misery? What was it to him? Other than, of course, he posed a threat to Hades' way of life about a bajillion years ago. So either Hades could hold a grudge for a fabulous amount of time (which Luke didn't doubt), Hades stuck him here and forgot about him (which was slightly less likely), or Hades really did believe that Luke deserved Elysian (which could be looked at in two different contexts and brought Luke back to the first two options). So, even though he had been here for Zeus knows how long, he couldn't seem to puzzle it out.

And then his mind circled back to one of its usual questions: how long had Luke been here? There was no way to keep track of time in the never-failing light of Elysian fields, or even in the dimly-lit fields of Asphodel. Luke thought that there was no record of anything but horror in the fields of Punishment, but having never been there, he wasn't sure.

Luke thought of his old life, starting at the very beginning the day he dragged himself over Half-Blood Hill and watched Thalia turn into a tree, and ending with the second he turned that scorpion on Percy. Or maybe it began the day he met Thalia, and ended the day he listened to Kronos' words. Maybe it began the day he ran away with Thalia, and ended the day she turned into a tree. The lines were blurred, faded, and, in some cases, worn away with time.

* * *

It was like every other day in Elysian: bright and small. So few people died heroic deaths, Luke and Thalia noticed. Very few people had entered Elysian fields since Luke's death; he wasn't sure that he could count them on one hand, or even on two, but he knew that the number was still small. And why? Because people were horrible, Thalia noted. Especially all those evil bastards in the Fields of Punishment.

Thalia kicked at the dock she stood on with one black combat boot, staring down into the lake's black surface below her. Her appearance hadn't changed at all since she bound herself to Artemis; she was a sixteen-year-old girl who had the eyes of someone who had seen much more. She wore the same clothes, styled her hair the same way, and had been around the same people for over a hundred years.

At first, she was a little bit upset about her death. Now, she realized it just may be a blessing in disguise. She would never break her oath to Artemis: she had nowhere else to go and no knowledge of how the world had changed, but still she grew weary of the same way of life. She needed something else, but she didn't know what in time to rejoin her world. The new recruits made fun of the way she spoke when they thought she couldn't hear, but half the time, Thalia couldn't understand what they were talking about.

It was odd that she had joined Artemis's ranks to escape, but a few years in, she felt so trapped. Thalia guessed that was because she was her father's daughter: not able to be tamed, caged, or forced into the same way of life over and over again. Her father released his need to be free by seeing other women and having other children. Thalia had nothing. She had over a lifetime of pent-up feelings that she was running away from and a body six feet under.

Maybe, Thalia decided, it was time to stop running and start dealing. Death had a very odd effect on her. She felt at peace, despite all the things she thought she should be worried about. Everyone she'd known as a Half-Blood was dead. Everyone she'd known as a Hunter was safe. It was as simple as that, she realized, and there was nothing to do about any of it, anyway. She was warm, happy, and full here. She saw friends lost a long time ago and realized she was safe here.

Safe, at least, until she saw a reflection behind her own in the lake's surface. The figure was taller than her and definitely a man. It took her a minute to figure out it was Luke Castellan standing behind her, though she had once thought that she could never forget his face.

She spun around quickly, unsure of how to react. Her arms were up, her muscles were tensed, and her hands were clenched into fists, but she wasn't sure that she wanted to fight. Her mouth was open, but she wasn't sure that she wanted to talk. One part of her screamed he died a hero. The other part screamed his death was his own fault. Life as a Hunter was about making snap decisions, which Thalia thought she had down pat.

"Hi, Thalia," Luke said. "Listen, you don't have to say anything. I just want you to hear me out."

In the end, the part of her that screamed "Luke died a hero" was louder. Thalia put her hands by her sides, silently deciding that he had ten words to catch her interest, or he was going in the lake.


End file.
